A/N: Okay, this story is centered on Leon, or as people who have read my other story know him, Leon Sr. For those of you who haven't, you'll understand why at the end of the story. Quick warning for those who are easily offended or cry easily, this story might not be for you, but I'll tone it down as much as possible.
Warning: I am NOT a romance writer. I'm a blood/gore/action/drama/tragedy writer. Never mind that most of my stories are labeled romance, I just don't do the lovey dovey thing. If that's what you are looking for, this story is not for you!
The sun seared the undersized island, which could not have been more than three miles long in either direction, spitefully. Waves of heat quivered on the horizon. Not one cloud marred the perfectly blue sky. The teal water's tide lapped the golden sand invitingly. Green jungle covered the island in a lush green carpet.
The droning of a plane interrupted the peaceful island. Inside the cockpit sat two men clad in priest's habits, despite the heat of the summer day. One, a young man with bronze hair stared blankly ahead as his dark-haired companion, also a young man, grumbled under his breath and flew the plane.
"Damn it! Of all the missions, Catherine had to pick this one. This one! In the most god-forsaken part of the world with temperatures skyrocketing into the hundreds traveling in this junker that would probably be better off as scrap-metal! God damn it!" The dark-haired man ranted.
"Father Leon, it is suggested that you calm yourself to keep from interfering with the mission. Also, do not take the Lord's name in vain."
"Shut it, Tres."
The plane landed on the beach, sending a flock of white gulls careening into the sky with raucous indignation. Father Leon stepped out of the old plane with care a moment later, sending the small crabs that had been brave enough to venture close to the machine scuttling back into their hidey-holes. The young man glared at the cawing cloud of birds venomously.
"Well there goes our element of surprise, eh, Tres?" He commented almost offhandedly, as if he were talking about the weather.
"Biosweep: Five humans approaching at sixty miles per hour. Probability that they are heavily armed at eighty-nine percent," Tres said mechanically.
"Wonderful. Years of upgrades and all you can tell me is something I can guess. Love that android mind of yours, Tres."
The android was already walking away, towards the forest. "Instigating guerrilla warfare."
"Androids," Leon muttered, rolling his eyes and running after his friend.
The men were relatively easy to take out. Traveling at a gallop on brown hybrid horses, all Leon and Tres had to do was shoot them each in any place with small darts that worked instantly. The men fell off the horses and the animals ran into the forest.
Running swiftly, Leon caught two and rode one back, reliving it off the nonessential heavy gun in favor for the two light ones he kept in his coat next to the spinning razors that he specialized in. He trotted casually to his friend, the android and offered the reins with a roughish grin.
They rode back the way the men had come, though keeping closer to the forest. In the distance, a huge water mill sat on the coast, amid tan rocks that had not been visible from the sky. As the half mile turned to a quarter mile, and the quarter mile into less than fifteen yards, Leon and Tres slowly melted into the shadow of the forest, eyes always on the horizons, but ears covering their surroundings.
Soon enough, they were in front of a campsite from the forest. Before, nothing but the mill had been visible; the tents pitched were the color of sand. Small fire pits were scattered throughout the encampment; guns and knives could be found helter-skelter throughout the area; feet stuck out of tents. There was no doubt in either the cyborg's or human's mind: this was a human-run camp. Leon could see from this vantage point a couple of ex-convicts he had known while they had spent their younger years in the joint. He, of course, was still working off his debt.
"Biosweep," Tres said in a low voice; at least the android had enough common sense to do that, "approximately twenty humans and one Methuselah within fifty feet."
Leon's eyes swept the scene. The water wheel was crusted over with old sea life and mold; it probably had not been turned since the place was abandoned thirty years ago by the inhabitants. The mill's building was much taller than most. Rearing into the sky, it was made of dark gray stones. Leon frowned as the color changed abruptly. He leaned forward slightly and caught a reflection of sunlight in his face. The mill served doubly as a lighthouse. The upper floor's walls were made of glass, which was as decrepit and abandoned-looking as the wheel itself. In fact, the place might not have been touched for years if not for the obviously inhabited camp in front of it and a small golden window of light in one of the windows one the second floor of the building.
"There," said Leon, "he's in there." He pointed, without allowing his hand to leave the safety of the shadow, to the window.
"Positive." Tres took out a gun and prepared to shoot.
"No!" exclaimed Leon in a half-whisper. He tackled Tres and pinned him to the ground, though he doubted he would be able to do it again if Tres anticipated him. "Tres, what the hell do you think would happen if we were to shoot at a Methuselah and woke up an entire camp of angry, dangerous men with everything to loose?"
"Processing. Ninety-eight percent chance that we would be chased; sixty-four percent chance we would be apprehended before we would get to safety."
"Right. And Catherine wants us to catch all of them; how are we supposed to do that if they scattered?"
"Rhetorical question, Tres." Leon said, rolling his eyes. "Let's make sure they don't have a way to get away if they do scatter, okay?"
"Affirmative. Most likely location of transportation: two point five miles ahead in a cove."
"Right. Let's get a move on. Damn weather's too hot." Leon muttered, moving forward and pulling the horse, which had already begun nervously tramping the ground beneath their feet at the sight of the camp, with him.
They moved two miles ahead to a rocky outcropping that could only be accessed from the front, which opened to water. It was not a particularly clever place to hide boats, but, then again, the criminals did not expect to be apprehended.
Leon wordlessly handed the reins of his horse to Tres, and walked silently over to the edge of the cave. He crouched down, and with the agility of a cat, leaned over the side of black rocks, first staring at the bright blue water below, then into the dark cave.
There were boats.
A/N: Like I said, I know that I should not start a new series without ending the first, but this one will add to the other series. Besides, I'm only going to write on this story once and awhile. It will not hinder my other story. Thanks for reading!